


Storytime

by Aestheticdenbrough



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst in chapter five on, Banter, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Domestic, Friends to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Outed, Sex, Smut, Youtube AU, cooking together, in their mid twenties, like dan and phil but like fwbs, pennywise did happen, prank, prank video, proposal, ring, shower scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aestheticdenbrough/pseuds/Aestheticdenbrough
Summary: Bill Denbrough and Richie Tozier are roommates who make youtube videos together. They are friends with benefits, a no feelings deal- or is it?





	1. Storytime

Bill crouches in front of the camera, trying to figure out the focus and angle again, it has to be _just right_. He cusses under his breath, trying to keep quiet since Richie is asleep in the room next to him. He doesn't even know why he'd worry about this, Richie sleeps like a damn log, though he's convinced himself that he just wouldn't want to face Richie if he _did_ wake him.

The tripod falls and he narrowly grabs the camera so it doesn't fall, but the tripod clatters to the floor. Bill sighs and his gaze moves to Richie's door. _I swear he could sleep through a hurricane_ , he thinks to himself.

Despite Bill's assessment, Richie comes out of the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Breakfast time, billiam?" He asks hopefully.

"Richie, it's past noon," Bill teases, still getting up to walk his way to the kitchen and see what kind of cereal they have, he could never be trusted to make anything else. 

Richie slides into a stool at the counter, fumbling with the waistband of his boxers, he sleeps nearly naked, which definitely took Bill some getting used to.

"We have... Lucky charms?" Bill suggests, turning around from his face being buried in the cupboard. 

Richie considers it for a moment, "sounds mighty fine, billy-boy," he says with a grin, just reaching his arms out for the box. Bill hands it over, that box was mostly reserved for Richie because he always ate it straight out of the box. 

Bill grabs an apple from the bowl, having already eaten breakfast but he'll at least eat with Richie because it's lunch time anyways.

Richie sticks his hands down into the box, pulling up a handful of the cereal, specifically pulling out the marshmallows first, popping a rainbow shaped one into his mouth with a smirk, happy with himself. 

"We filming today? I think we have something on the schedule, right?" Bill asks, taking a bite of his apple, chewing with his mouth open, he never has seen a point in being a civilized person if he's only around Richie.

"Yeah, storytime thing, just you though, I'm going out," Richie reminds, "hot date," he winks, licking cereal dust off his finger in what he considers the most seductive way possible.

"Tinder? Grindr? Which site did you use?" Bill teases, tossing his apple between his hands before going over to sit next to his friend.

"Met him at a bar, bill, I'm old school," Richie teases, shoving his glasses up on his nose.

"Wow, you are," Bill says flatly, chuckling as Richie takes another messy handful of the cereal, "you know, you're going to sweep this up later, asshole," bill reminds playfully.

"Fine, whatever you say billyum," Richie shrugs, pouring some more cereal into his mouth from the box.

"I'm gonna go shower, filming and stuff, don't wanna look greasy and nasty," he shrugs, making his way to the bathroom door, hanging out by the door frame as he waits for Richie's response. 

"Yeah ya nasty, cleanse yourself," Richie says, laughing to himself because despite his words, his curly hair is in a mess around his face and he hasn't showered in a good enough bit, he'd have to before later. _Hot date_ , he thinks to himself with a grin.

Bill slides into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and starting the water. He strips himself of his clothes, pulling back the curtain and stepping under the water with a sigh.

_Richie has another date_ , he thinks to himself, _nice_ , he thinks sarcastically. He pumps some shampoo into his palm, lathering it into his reddish locks. 

He turns around to let the water rush down his body, the suds falling around his shoulders and collarbones just to wash down further. 

_We're not together. At all. Can't be jealous_ , he reminds himself, running conditioner into the ends of his hair, grabbing a loofah for while it sets in before he rinses that out too.

He finishes washing himself, shoving his hand out the curtain to blindly fumble for his towel. He pulls it in after he shuts off the water. He steps out with the towel around his waist. He already spots a dick drawn in the steam on the mirror. _This is why I keep the curtain closed_ , he reminds himself, "real mature, Richard!" He calls out, holding his towel up. 

"Hey! Joke's on you! I don't _wanna_ be mature!" Bill hears called back, shaking his head slowly to himself. 

"Asshole!" He calls back, but they'd leave it at that, no need for another noise complaint that month, the price of this flat was too good.

Bill brushes his teeth and half asses styling his hair, pulling on some jeans and a flannel over a v-neck before he steps out into the living room again quietly, looking to Richie, who was picking up pieces of cereal off the floor and eating it anyways. "God, Richie, you're so fucking gross," he laughs, plopping down on the couch in front of the camera again to mess with angles some more.

Richie just smirks, popping another piece of cereal in his mouth, "can't waste perfectly good cereal, William," he argues, then going to grab the broom from the hall closet. 

"Yes you can!" Bill calls back at him without even looking away from his task at hand, finally getting the camera to sit where he wants it with a satisfied sigh.

Richie returns with the broom and dustpan, finally cleaning his mess up properly, "but, _Bill_ , it's so _good_ ," he jokes with a grin, "the germs from the floor make it better," he laughs at his own comments while Bill bites back his smile. 

Bill gets up, patting Richie's back and ruffling his hair, "you should get ready for your date, I'll finish this up for you," he promises.

Richie nods, "thank you, William," he comments. Richie heads off to the shower for his own, shutting the door behind him. 

Bill stays and sweeps up the rest of the crumbs, dumping the dustpan down into the trash and putting it all back in the hall closet. He walks over to the bathroom, opening the door, "hey, cleaned up for you, I'm going to my room until you leave, I'll film then," he explains, not even skipping a beat when he sees that Richie hasn't closed the curtain, and that he'd been standing there shaving, _that_ area.

Richie nods, not even looking up at Bill as he speaks, shampoo dripping down from his hair. _God he's a disaster_ , Bill thinks to himself, slipping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him before going back to his room.

Bill lays back on his bed, scrolling through Twitter until he hears the heavy front door open and close. _Time to film_ , he reminds himself, getting up from his spot and heading out to the living room and sitting himself right in front of the camera.

He clicks it on, the usual adrenaline filling him as soon as he sees the green light on the camera. "Hi! Welcome to, hi I'm Bill and I make videos I regret," he says with a chuckle, his usual intro for his videos. 

"Today's video is a storytime, surprise surprise, the Twitter poll chose this," he says, continuing to look at the camera with comfortable eye contact. 

"So today we're talking about my college years. When I was a sophomore, me and my friends, we went to this party. And really I wasn't feeling it, and I was just talking to this girl in the corner. So this girl, let's call her Blondie, she was really smart and cool and I liked her. So we decided to ditch the party and go back to her place. And we get there and like, we both start getting undressed. Like- we may not have been feeling the party, but we weren't completely sober either. And then we're in her room and she pushes me to her bed and like _yanks_ \- I mean yanks my under down, so like by then I guess she's taking charge. And she starts teasing my dick with her tongue," he starts to turn red as he speaks.

"And she gets me like- close. And she stops. And she doesn't start again and she gets dressed like we're done and I'm like? Hello? And ohmygod she literally was just in the mood to tease me. And like my friends were my ride back to our apartment, and like- I had to go face them at the party. And when I was a kid I had a stutter and like- it comes back in _certain_ situations. And my friends know," he laughs lightly.

"I got back to the party and all they do is _tease_ me and god I was redder then than I am now," he smiles awkwardly. "And- yeah, that's really it," he says awkwardly.

He tries a few more takes, ending just as awkwardly every time. It's been longer than he realizes, and he hears the door open behind him, Richie looking disheveled and smelling like nicotine and smoke.

Richie plops on the couch next to him, "you filming?" He asks lazily.

"Yeah- orgasm denial story," Bill smirks.

"My god, Billy, didn't think you were that lame," he laughs, "let me tell a story, slap a new word in the title, [collab]," he says, gesturing with his hands.

"Fine, take over," Bill says teasingly, shoving Richie's shoulder, "better not ruin it," he jokes, going quiet and watching Richie as he starts the story. 

Richie makes himself comfortable, staring the camera in the eye, "So, we're going to talk about the time I had wild sex with a dude who thought he was straight." _Innocent enough, for Richie_.

"So he's like, pretty tall, nice hair, pretty dude, clean cut, good student, all around nice guy that most people like," Richie starts explaining. "We were hanging out at a bar one night. Got really wasted, went back to my place."

Bill watches, his confidence wavering, _this sounds familiar._

"So he's in my room, moaning my name over and over, and I got a fucking noise complaint taped to my door, I keep it on my fridge," Richie says proudly.

_Oh god yeah, fuck you, Richie_ , Bill thinks to himself. "Okay! So that's all the time we have for this video, talk to you guys soon!" He says quickly, getting flustered and shutting off the camera.

"Richie! The fuck?" Bill whisper shouts. "You can't just tell a story about- us, on camera," Bill whines. 

Richie smirks, exactly his goal in this situation, crawling up onto Bill's lap, straddling his hips, "what? It's a pretty good story, about a pretty cool guy," he teases, stroking his finger under Bill's chin. His date never showed up.

"But- R-Richie," Bill whines, starting to stutter a bit more, giving up, the tension rising in his shoulders.

"Oh, Billy, you know what I'm doing," Richie says smoothly, pressing his lips to Bill's, his hands on Bill's cheek and on his lower back.

"I hate y-you," Bill mumbles on Richie's lips, he looks past Richie to notice the green light on the camera, he'd missed the off button. _At least it's not a Livestream_ , he thinks to himself as he sucks Richie's lower lip.

Richie pulls back, "I'm in charge today, okay, Billy?" He asks teasingly, running his hands through Bill's hair.

"O-okay," Bill says with a desperate nod, trying to shove his lips back at Richie's.

"Ah, ah, ah," Richie says warningly, shaking his head and pushing bill's face further from his, "I'm in charge," he says, getting up and pulling Bill from the spot on the couch and pushing him up on the wall, pressing their bodies together. He smirks more against Bill's lips when he feels a pressure against his own crotch, "aw, Billy, hard already? Weak," he teases, grabbing Bill's hand to drag him to the bedroom.

He pushes Bill to the bed, loving the vulnerability of it, consent and vulnerability at the same time bring him the most satisfied feeling. He undoes his own pants, seeing Bill go for his own. "No," he says simply, moving Bill's hands off his fly. 

He strips himself naked, then carefully going for Bill's pulling his pants down for him with some care. Next, he brings his fingers to dance around the tip, not even looking over at Bill as he does. He brings his lips to the tip, teasing around the rim, then taking more into his mouth, hearing Bill's strangled moans and taking them as a compliment, Bill is usually pretty quiet during sex. 

He bobs his head up and down on it, a mess of lips and tongue, gripping Bill's hips tightly enough. Bill doesn't like him leaving marks, but he does it anyways Sometimes, claims it to be a mistake later.

Bill bucks his hips up, telling Richie to take him in further, which Richie does as he's told, feeling Bill quivering under him. Bill shakes with anticipation, putting his hands over Richie's, holding them tighter. 

Richie keeps going, _god he has stamina_ , he thinks to himself. Finally the time comes. "Cl-close," Richie stutters out. Richie nods, going even more intense.

Bill finally comes, the substance all leaking into Richie's mouth, Richie comes back up, swallowing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "you did good," he says, patting bill's hip awkwardly, he never knows what to do after that. _The problem with our whole- friends with benefits thing._

Bill sighs, breathing heavily and pulling his underwear up, making himself sit up, it's Richie's bed, he never stays.

Richie flops onto the bed, pulling off his glasses and putting them on the bedside table, sighing deeply and falling asleep quickly. Being in charge is hard work.

Bill watches Richie fall asleep, staying sitting on the bed, laying back down with a sigh. _Don't catch feelings. Don't catch feelings. Don't catch feelings. Fuck._


	2. Good Ole Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill tells a childhood story for his channel, then he and Richie make dinner and hang out.

Bill sits in front of the camera, _god, I can't believe I'm so deeply closeted that I'm changing the pronouns in this story_ , he thinks to himself, turning the camera on with his normal plastered on smile. "Hi! As the title probably tells you, today I'm gonna tell the story about how I fell in love with my best friend in middle school!" He exclaims, clapping his hands together.  
-  
Bill pedals with all his strength, Richie's squeals of happiness and fear fuelling his adrenaline. He bikes on, right over a pebble, making the bike swerve dangerously. 

Richie holds his breath as Bill takes further control of the bike, fully aware of how unpredictable silver can be. The tire makes an unpleasant sound on the gravel yet again, their balance wavering and before they know it they're on the ground with stinging knees and elbows.

Bill sits up first, picking a piece of gravel out of his knee, looking over to make sure Richie is okay, who's still on the ground, holding himself up by his hands so he never hit the ground completely.

Bill sees his glasses a few feet away, picking them up and blowing them off, "h-hey, Richie, these might help," he says with an awkward chuckle, putting them on the bridge of his friend's nose.

"Yeah, they might help," Richie agrees, getting up to crouch on the ground. "Jeezus dude you're bleeding!" Richie says, eyeing Bill's knee and a scratch on his face. 

"It's f-fine, swear," Bill replies rather sheepishly, looking at the ground instead of Richie's eyes.

"Nah man, I'm gonna take ya home 'n fix ya up!" Richie decides, picking up silver and taking Bill's hand. Bill sighs begrudgingly, letting Richie walk him and the bike down the road.

The scrapes and scratches burn, causing him to wince and take in a sharp breath, Richie looking over at him worriedly. "Good, Bill-yum?" Richie asks, keeping his upbeat attitude despite his worry.

"Y-yeah, just a bit scratched up, h-hurts more when it's minor," he chuckles slightly, squeezing Richie's hand comfortingly.

Richie accepts the response, not wanting to argue, plus he _trusts_ Bill. He knows Bill would never _lie_ to him.

They reach the Tozier residence, Richie pulling a spare key out from under a garden gnome to let them in, his parents not home.

They let themselves in, Richie pulling Bill to the bathroom, sighing as he sees his out of control hair in the mirror, getting the Band-Aids out of the cabinet, _Spiderman Band-Aids_ , they bring a small grin to Richie's lips. 

He pulls out a band-aid and sticks it to Bill's knee and then another onto Bill's cheekbone, tapping it after he does, making Bill wince and chuckle at the same time.

Bill stands back up, having sat on the edge of the bathtub while Richie patched him up. The Band-Aids weren't completely covering the wounds and they weren't cleaned, but Bill smiles at Richie's attempt, _better than I would have done for myself._

"Let's watch some telé?" Richie asks, using a dumb sounding French accent that brings a soft smile to Bill's face. 

Bill nods in agreement, "Pretty s-sure Adventure Time is on," he laughs, guiding Richie to the living room.

-  
"And yeah- she and I really watched Adventure Time all day, hi- her parents didn't mind because they loved me, we were close," Bill finishes off the story, looking down at his hands before looking at the camera.

"Anyways! That was today's video! If you liked it; leave me a comment, maybe even subscribe and become a part of the family, according to some of you guys, I'm the daddy?" He chuckles slightly, putting an eyebrow up suspiciously.

He turns the camera off, shutting of his ring lights next, not wanting to add more to the electrical bill than he already constantly does with his need for good lighting. He starts gathering up his equipment, Richie should be home soon and he doesn't want to argue about Richie needing the filming space again.

Bill takes his things to his room, putting them in their usual places. He looks around at the slight mess around his space, _organized_ but not _clean_. He hears the door open and slam.

"Honey! I'm home~!" Richie shouts, his hands cupped around his lips as he speaks to be even more obnoxiously loud, going straight to the kitchen for dinner. "What are we eating, you little verse?" He shouts from having his face in the fridge.

Bill pops out from being in his room, "I was thinking I'd try and make something, got the stuff for spaghetti because that seemed easy enough, and your childhood obsession with it," he teases, getting a box of noodles from the cupboard.

Richie chuckles, "Oh, Billy, you know I'm not letting you cook," he sighs, taking the box from him quickly, "Lemme do it, I had an obsession with it because I can make it well," he retorts, smacking Bill in the back of the head.

Bill sighs, "I only set it on fire once, and now I'm labelled for life," he smirks, getting the pot out from below the sink.

"Yeah but I for one, am not paying to replace anything," he says, sticking his tongue out in Bill's general direction.

Bill holds the pot under the sink, running the water into it, at least going to help, even if he wouldn't be allowed by the stove again after that incident. He sighs overdramatically, "Do I need to tweet about you bullying me again?" He asks jokingly.

"My God, not again," Richie sighs even more overdramatically. He takes the filled pot and puts it on the stove to reach a boil, hopping up to sit on the counter.

Bill just smirks, "How was your day?" He asks, sliding into his seat on the barstool.

"It was good! Filmed a video with Mike! We played that one game- Dream Daddy, sounds about like someone I know," he teases, waggling his eyebrows at Bill suggestively.

"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep for suggesting that I'm a daddy," Bill deadpans, raising his eyebrows at him.

"Ah, sweet release, _please_ ," Richie laughs, dumping the noodles into the boiling pot, pressing them into the water with the wooden spoon.

Bill just rolls his eyes, getting up to retrieve the pasta sauce from the fridge, getting another pot to warm it in and putting it on a burner, turning it up and watching it bubble. "Maybe if I burn the house down," he smirks.

Richie shakes his head slowly, stirring the noodles around until they seem soft enough, pulling out a strand of pasta and throwing it at the wall to test it, "Ah! It's done!" He announces when it sticks.

"Hey! Lemme do it too!" Bill insists, grabbing his own strand, throwing it next to Richie's. He chuckles, "You know I do that every time," he warns, despite having already done it.

Richie laughs with him, their usual routine with any type of noodles, they've found it doesn't work with anything but angel hair pasta, and they still have dried spaghetti on their wall from last time. He gets out two bowls and a ladle, serving them each a bowl and some of the red sauce on it.

"Big mouth?" Bill suggests, taking his bowl and grabbing himself a bottle of Coke from the fridge.

"You know it, man- God the hormone monster is relatable," he grins, grabbing his own coke and making his way to the couch, plopping down and putting his feet up on the coffee table.

Bill kicks Richie's calve, "Hey! We've talked about this, you're getting dirt all over it, at least take your shoes off when get home," he teases, propping his own feet up the same way and grabbing the remote.

Richie smiles, adjusting his feet and spinning his spaghetti around on his fork, taking a bite and letting the noodles hang down and slurping them up with an unpleasant noise.

Bill just laughs, burping on purpose, only for the sake of keeping up the gross behavior. He clicks the show, continuing on the last episode he and Richie had ended up on in their last binge.

_Just like old times, minus a few Spiderman Band-Aids_ , Bill thinks to himself with a subtle side smile.


	3. Piercing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Richie film a video and meet a fan at the mall.

Richie hoists the camera onto his shoulder, popping his finger over the on button. "Weeeeelllll-come to my channel and a vlog I guess? I dunno but Billy boy here and I are at the mall," he introduces the video, ruffling Bill's hair as he mentions him, to which Bill responds by smacking him in the shoulder.

"Hey! Can't hit the guy with the expensive camera!" Richie nearly shrieks, receiving looks from passerbys. He shoves Bill back, leaving the camera angles all over the place with his constant movement.

"I can if it's not my camera!" Bill argues, shoving him back again, a smirk on his face as he runs his hand through his red hair, still damp from his shower earlier, making him look a bit like a shaggy dog.

Richie just scowls, "You'll be paying for it if you break it," he replies, sticking his tongue out and readjusting so the view would be straight.

"So, Richie, what are we doing today?" Bill asks with a smirk, trying to quit the bickering (that they would not edit out, it's part of their brand) and segway into the video's actual purpose.

Richie smiles at that, "Since Lil Billy here lost the last challenge video- he's getting a wee little piercing right here," he says, poking the upper side of Bill's left ear cartilage. "He's gonna have a grand ole time," Richie smirks, toying with the stud he wears on his lobe.

Bill smiles sheepishly, "Hey! I only lost that because it was fan choice on your channel," he argues, shoving Richie in the shoulder again.

"Hey! Maybe I just thought you'd look extra sexy with a piercing, Billiam," Richie coos jokingly, trying to tickle under Bill's chin before his hand gets slapped away.

Bill scoffs, "You know, Richie?" He says in a mock loving voice, "I hate you so much," he finishes, blowing a theatrical kiss in his direction. It's no wonder so many twelve year old girls love them, they practically act like middle schoolers themselves.

Richie smacks his hand onto Bill's ass with a playful expression, "No homo- just gaging your pain tolerance," he teases, egging Bill on about getting his ear pierced as much as he possibly can.

"Oh shut up!" Bill replies, scooting farther away from Richie, still earning looks from other mall-goers.

As expected when they go out, a teen girl notices them and comes running up with her bags rustling with her with her quick gait. "Ohmygod- you're- you're them!" She squeals, making Bill flinch slightly at the pitch.

"Uh, yeah, that's us," Bill chuckles awkwardly with a smile, he's still working on his "fan encounter" skills. "You want a picture?" He asks, trying to bring more genuineness to his expression, for he truly does love his fans, his social skills just get in the way. Add the fear of his stutter back and you've got him completely on edge.

She nods, tucking her frizzy hair behind her ear, not moving yet and waiting for their cue, feeling small next to people that she majorly looks up to.

Richie takes over the situation smoothly, knowing Bill's anxiety well after years of following him to his psychiatric appointments, new med after new med that don't seem to ever completely work. At this point, they can consider themselves "given up" and they've learned other ways to cope with it- together, as a pair.

Richie takes the girl under his arm, bending at the knees so he doesn't look so much like a giant in the photo. Bill stands on the other side of her, smiling the best he can, his dimples even coming out slightly. Richie takes her phone carefully to snap the picture as he has the longest arms and isn't in the middle.

"Say cheese," he grins, pressing the button as the other two lamely hum out the word as directed. He hands her the phone back, noticing how the case is that of their merch. "Nice case," he grins, taking her hand to place a kiss on her knuckle just because he can. Making his fans' days in the "outernet" is seemingly his favorite thing.

She smiles happily as she takes it back and clumsily shoves it back into her front pocket. She giggles happily as Richie's lips graze her hand. "Thank you," she says happily, Richie can see the look in her eyes. The "I'm never washing this hand again" look. 

She walks off again, a hop in her step, seeming skipping. Another day made, Richie thinks to himself with a smile, looking back at Bill. "You ready to get a hole poked in your ear?" He smirks, nudging Bill from his trance.

Bill stares into space, dazed with how happy that girl looks after just talking to him. He hears Richie again and snaps back to reality, "Hey, yeah, ready," he stammers, his shining, blue eyes looking at Richie about as wide as they go.

Richie chuckles at him, "Off to Claire's, then!" He says just a bit too loudly and a bit too happily. Bill shakes his head slowly, chewing his lip in a way that's obviously nervous. "Hey! Billiam! You'll be alright! It actually doesn't hurt so bad," Richie promises, brushing his hand comfortingly against Bill's shoulder.

Bill nods as he walks with Richie to the girly store, smiling sheepishly at the woman at the piercing chair. "I'm here to get my cartilage done," he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

She seems to start to give him an odd look, considering usually it's young girls who come here to get bling in their ears. Instead, she gives him a sweet and gentle smile, patting the tall chair for him to climb up and have a seat.

He sits, his arms on the metal armrests to ground himself. His legs hang down near the floor. He taps his fingers anxiously in anticipation. The woman gets out her pen to mark on his ears where the piercing is going on his ear. He winces even at the pen, much less the needle.

"Hold my hand?" Bill asks Richie, obviously now only putting on a show for the camera as he grips Richie's hand tightly. He smirks to the camera once their fingers are laced together.

The woman gets out the piercing gun, putting in a diamond stud before positioning it on the dot she'd circled tucked into his cartilage. All that's left is a click, hands tightening for a moment, and a wince. And now Bill is stuck with a pierced cartilage.

He looks up at Richie, who takes his hand back and shakes it around as Bill had cut his circulation off in his theatricality and possibly even actual pain, but not probable for the great Big Bill Denbrough, at least in Richie's eyes.

"Food court?" Bill asks as soon as it's done. Just to prove his strength and bravery, and maybe a little because he's hungry.

"Of course, Billiam!" Richie exclaims, moving the camera off his shoulder to aim it at his face. "This has been a vlog! I'm bad at outros and I'm probably editing music in here, bye!" He smiles, covering the lense with his hand as he shuts it off.

Now, the camera is off and seemingly no fans are in sight, Richie pulls Bill up from the chair, pulling him to a nook in the wall, pushing him up and kissing him hard in the most lip bruising way he can. "Sorry, Billy, couldn't help myself," he teases, brushing Bill's bangs behind his ear and pulling away. "Now let's go get subs," he grins.

Richie starts walking away, leaving Bill panting and flustered against the tile wall. He shakes his head, telling himself to join reality again, finally jogging to follow after Richie who was several paces in front of him.


	4. Richie's Nostalgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie tries to tell a story about he and Bill when they were younger before he gets carried away and has to delete the footage because it reveals too much personal information on Bill.

Richie sits in front of the camera, plopping on the couch in such a fashion that makes the springs in the cushions creak loudly under his weight. He grins to himself, adjusting his glasses as he goes to flip open the viewfinder and click the on button green

He lays back on the back of the couch, getting comfortable, even "man spreading" as Beverly calls it when he does, she always opens her legs wider than he does. He doesn't seem to mind, she's more dominant than he is anyways.

He smiles lazily at the camera in his lowering high, a couple bong hits an hour ago leaves him feeling much smoother than he really is. "Hello, viewers, friends, subscribers," he starts with the grin, leaning forward now with his elbows on his knees.

"Today, boy do I have a story for you," he says, shaking his head with a grin wider than ever. "We're talking about me and Billy Boy in highschool," he says with an eyebrow waggle that goes as long and has far as to make his forehead a bit sore.

"We were fifteen at the time, good times, good times..." He trails off into the story.

Bill slams his locker shut, huffing deeply and jumping when he sees Richie standing straight in front of him in the near empty hallway. He's leaving early because he had an anxiety attack in class over the upcoming geometry presentation he has to do. _It doesn't even make sense, why would I need to talk in front of the class about numbers, that's what the teacher is for._

"Heya Billiam, you need someone to go with you? I know your folks probably won't do you any good," Richie offers, his voice losing the normal kick it usually has in favor of something soft and soothing and actually careful, cautious of how Bill may be feeling.

Bill hesitates for a moment, knowing that means Richie will be absent for the day too and he'd feel awful if he got in trouble for it. Richie cares more about his friends than he cares for himself, leaving him in constant trouble with the adults in Derry. He especially speaks out much too much, leaving many people upset with him.

"Sure, R-r-rich, I th-think I'd like that," he says softly, hugging his composition notebook tight to his chest for comfort. He decides he doesn't want to be alone all day, having only made it to the first hour of school, since geometry is set as his second.

Richie nods with a small smile, only letting the corners of his lips tilting up in his normal smirk. He tries to act normal as he takes Bill's hand to drag him off to the front entrance, carrying Bill's backpack and his own.

"Silver doing you good still, Big Bill?" Richie asks, trying to start a conversation that would build Bill up instead of making him feel any worse than he already does. 

Bill nods, "She's th-the most p-p-powerful steed," he says surely, still basing much of his pride in his bike, the very one he'd bought for himself after Georgie's death.

"I believe you, Billy," Richie says proudly, climbing on to his own rickety bike, the seat too low for his legs that had shot out like beanstalks once his middle school growth spurt hit.

Bill only smiles softly as he clambers on Silver, her mighty self still proving too tall for even Bill's current height, taller than even Richie's. 

They share a look before both starting to pedal at the same pace, taking different amounts of strength to go the same speed due to the difference in bike sides.

Eventually they hit the park, Richie looking to Bill for some sort of direction, "We going to yours or mine?" He asks, looking down at his feet, kicking at the dirt path so dust bubbles up into the air.

"M-mine sounds good, I l-love your mom but I d-don't wanna w-worry her," Bill says, already obviously sure in his decision, his response coming almost immediately.

Richie only nods, bringing his foot back up to the pedal. He starts a bit too slow, wobbling to the side a little, catching himself by kicking his foot to the ground before bringing it back up to speed after Bill who got farther while Richie was struggling with his pedals.

They both smile devilishly at each other, speeding forward at each other to try and be the faster one, every ride is an unspoken race when it's just the two of them.

Once they arrive at the Denbrough residence (Bill pulled into the driveway first but Richie refuses to accept it) Bill lets them in with the key under the garden gnome on his front porch. 

He walks in, dropping his backpack immediately to the floor with a thump. He sighs to himself, rubbing his hands over his face and sighing, running his hands through his ginger hair. He truly just wants to calm himself, but that means letting the rest of the pent up anxiety out before it can feel better.

Bill lets a few tears stream down in salty orbs that represent how he's feeling, obviously pretty awful if he's allowing himself to cry around another person. As fast as the tears started, they stop abruptly, he quickly swipes them away with long sweatshirt sleeves that cover his hands like little paws.

In this moment he looks nothing to Richie but a younger version of the Bill everyone knows. Seeming small, nearly fragile and like he could fall apart further if Richie missteps.

Richie can't help but drop his bag as well to wrap his lanky arms around Bill clumsily, holding him for a few moments as the boy shudders slightly under his touch. "You're okay, Bill, I can leave if you need me to," Richie offers, feeling Bill shake his head quickly against his neck.

Bill finally pulls away, looking Richie square in the eye, "C-can you get the bl-blue blanket from my bed? I'll m-make us tea, think it'll c-calm me down," he says, slowly making a plan in his head for the two of them.

Richie nods in response, looking a bit bewildered about how the leader in Bill had immediately come back in that moment, a pop up of the version he often sees. 

Richie trudges his way up the creaky wooden steps to the upstairs bedroom. He opens Bill's closed door, stepping into the room. He feels wrong entering alone, it's always with Bill and he feels as if he's intruding now. 

Bill's room is the epitome of the room that belongs to a creative but sad person, in other words, it's an absolute disaster. He has a way of organizing, he just never seems to use his method of organization after he's started it.

Richie pulls the fuzzy blue throw blanket from atop the comforter that lays all wrinkled on the sheets. He folds it neatly enough, hugging it to his chest as he goes to the door, closing it behind him only lightly, not wanting to disturb anything. 

He makes his way downstairs to where tea is steeping on the counter but no signs of Bill's presence in the kitchen. Then, suddenly, Bill pops out from the dining room, his phone timer still going off until he clicks it off hastily to pull the tea bags out of the mugs, wincing a bit at the hot water that runs up his arms as he walks them to the trash can.

"T-tea's ready," Bill says sheepishly, wiping his arms down with a paper towel, knowing he'll probably feel sticky until the next shower, though he realizes that he really just doesn't care.

"I see that, I can carry them?" Richie offers, grabbing Bill a second paper towel, looking down at his own hoodie and back at Bill's wet sleeves, "And do you want my hoodie? I know you get cold," Richie tests carefully.

Bill nods hesitantly, starting to pull off his own sweatshirt to take up Richie's offer. He's a bit shy, a few stray marks on his arms where he picked at his skin in the strong state of anxiety he'd been in earlier.

Richie quickly pulls off his hoodie, still warm so when Bill pulls it on it feels almost like it's fresh out of the dryer, just as he likes it.

Richie grabs the mugs, a blue one and a yellow one, knowing Bill almost always uses the yellow one, the blue one is his second choice, which definitely makes Richie feel honored. "Where we goin', chief?" He asks with a playful smile.

"I'll l-lead you," Bill says, his tone telling Richie just to be patient, Bill is obviously in one of those moods, and chances are that his surprise won't be negative, knowing him. He's a careful leader and fears nothing more than losing people he loves, which means that he would be especially upset if he scared them off by mistake.

Richie just nods, letting Bill carry the blanket. He watches carefully as Bill drapes it around his shoulders, making himself into a walking human burrito as he walks the two of them towards the room nobody ever seems to open, not for years at least.

Bill opens the door, filling their eyes with yellow and blue and plush toys, an intact Lego turtle sitting neatly on the bedside table just as it should, becoming the first thing seen whenever someone goes in.

Bill crawls right into the small bed, obviously little as it was meant for a boy as young as the age of six. He pats the side next to him, slipping off his shoes and letting them tumble to the floor, better there than on the bed. He'd wash the sheets if he dirtied them but maybe then they'd feel less like Georgie's.

Richie takes off his shoes before sitting in next to Bill, carefully sliding the tea onto the bedside table without touching the turtle. It's not his to touch and he knows that both he and Bill know that.

"It j-just hurts a lot," Bill says softly, whenever he falls apart everything seems to rush back, he's not gotten enough closure on the situation, he truly wishes that it had all ended differently so he could _feel_ differently.

Richie sighs, looking down at his fidgety hands that he holds in his lap so he wouldn't feel so annoying. "I know, Billy, you deserve better," he says quietly, reaching one of said hands over to Bill's shoulder to rub it comfortingly until he feels the other boy quiver with tears again.

"I'm s-sorry," is all the usually stoic boy says in a near whine, unable to get the words out properly. 

Richie's heart melts for him, leaning over to hug him, brushing the tears away with his thumb, looking into Bill's watery eyes. "I'm always here for you, I love you," Richie reminds, leaning in to press a peck to Bill's lips, something out of the ordinary for them but Bill doesn't seem to mind.

Richie snaps from his storytelling, looking into the camera and shaking his head to himself, "God, I can't post that," he reminds himself, reaching forward to shut off the camera, taking the SD card to wipe the filming session from it as if he hadn't gotten teary and nostalgic about that story for the past half an hour.


	5. Exposed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone got a picture of Bill and Richie at the mall, sparking a lot of Twitter drama.

Bill is having an excellent morning, he woke up and decided to just shut off his phone and have a day away from social media, he's really been needing this.

Away from social media, he realizes that it's just about all he does. He makes scrambled eggs (nearly burnt to a crisp albeit, he ate them anyways) for himself and Richie and even drinks some orange juice after his coffee. He feels _refreshed._

Soon enough, he just plops himself on the dark couch in the living room, pulling the blanket over the back of it on to his legs comfortably. He lowers the lights in the room to be dimmer before turning the screen to Netflix, clicking around until he finds something deemed worth watching.

He lays in comfort with his eyes lazily on the TV until nearly noon, calmer than he's been in a while. Being off social media for a moment is even almost as good as smoking a quick joint before filming.

Richie's morning is simply chaotic, he decides he has to go out early in the morning, that he needs to get out more than he has aside from the trip to the mall. He changes into his running clothes before jogging out of the house, Bill not even being awake yet at that time.

He truly needed the feeling of wind in his hair and the early morning sunlight on his cheeks, his sweatshirt almost getting him too heated despite the fact that it's late autumn and the temperature is dropping slowly down to where it'll be for early winter.

He goes all the way to the local Starbucks, earning the oddest of looks when he orders an iced coffee but he's never really care about how people look at him, having gained a lot of confidence now after a childhood defined by his insecurity.

He sips at his coffee, finally starting to go through his phone for the first time since the night before, ready to see the success of the vlog at the mall. He slowly gets worried as he sees _just_ how popular it got overnight. He and Bill are well known, but not _that_ well known.

He finally looks to Twitter for some explanation, he hasn't been a comment reader for several months now. It's mostly positive these days and he may not find anything truly productive due to the spam he often finds on his channel.

He opens Twitter with only a slight nervous twinge at how many times he'd been tweeted at since the video went up. That is, until he sees that they're all tweeting about something else.

His focus is drawn to the fact that someone posted a picture of he and Bill that hadn't been taken with their knowledge. It makes Richie feel gross inside even before he sees the image. 

He opens the original image, taken completely aback by the sight of what was he and Bill kissing in that corner. "God fucking damnit!" He whisper shouts to himself, feeling almost like he's about to cry. It's his fault, and that means Bill is outed now- _god fuck he's probably so upset right now_ , Richie thinks to himself, jumping up from his seat and tossing out the remaining of the half full cup.

He jogs all the way back to the apartment, his fingers shaking as he presses the key into the hole, pushing the door open quietly. "Bill?" He calls, looking around as he comes in, suddenly now fearing that Bill could be angry.

Richie tiptoes his way to the living room only to find Bill asleep on the couch, his face pressed into the couch cushions. Richie softens at the sight, hoping Bill doesn't even know yet.

He lets his fingers curl through Bill's hair, the silky texture bringing him comfort already, letting him forget for even just a moment that everything is going to change now. 

He kneels behind the couch, "Billy, you gotta wake up," he whispers, rubbing Bill's head just a little rougher to wake him. Bill's head shifts to look at Richie, his blue eyes wide and confused. 

"What, Richie?" He asks, looking a bit worried at Richie's obvious anxiety. He reaches his hand to the one Richie has in his hair, gripping it for grounding in his sleep hazed state.

"Bill- fuck, I'm sorry. Someone got a picture of us kissing at the mall yesterday- Twitter's blowing up," he says softly, chewing his lip and watching Bill's face fall. He sees his expression go from glazed over and tired to anxious and urgent, sitting up a bit more as his breathing speeds up.

"They- they know?" Bill asks weakly, his voice shaking with the threat of tears, being outed to his friends would have been one thing, to the world is another.

"I'm so sorry-" Richie starts, wiping at his eyes, it's less of a problem for him as it is for Bill, but it hurts to see him like this. He reaches his hand for Bill's shoulder again to try and comfort him. 

Everything blurs out for Bill, all of the vision around him feathering into nothing, he wishes he could attribute that to the fact that he's not wearing his glasses or his contacts but really he knows deep down that his vision has never been this bad, except when he anxiously disassociates.

He hears the echo of Richie's words hit his ears, closing his eyes in hopes that he can bring himself back down to earth. He opens them, no luck. "I'm gonna go to my room," he says, pushing himself up onto his jelly legs to stumble his way to his bed.

He picks up his phone and pushes hard on the on button until the screen lights up, making him shut his eyes again when the brightness surprises him. He's suddenly bombarded with the Twitter notifications, swiping them away as fast as he can move his thumb.

He can't help but notice the tens of texts from the other losers asking if he's alright, but by reflex he swipes them away too, clearing away all of his notifications before just shutting his phone off again to lay back on his pillow, closing his eyes to the world, thus closing himself off.

Richie sits in the living room, unknowing of how he can help, twiddling his thin fingers together, looking to Bill's room in worry. He's unsure about what he's supposed to do to help, he feels as if he caused this and there's no way to fix it. Stuck in the moment as time drags on slowly as it seemingly can.


	6. Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill remembers what Richie did for him before his college graduation.

Bill lays in bed still now for the second day in a row, avoiding the world for fear that he'll be seen different. He can't help but think up video ideas through his nothingness, especially storytimes from when he and Richie were younger, maybe even a story from back when Bill was in college.

Richie Tozier never really considered college in his early adulthood, it's not that he didn't have dreams or the means to get accepted, he just doesn't have the desire to be retaught everything so soon after graduating high school. He fears it would dampen the feeling of success that his high school graduation gave him as he strode across the stage for his diploma.

Bill, however, is on an endless mission to make his parents proud about something, and he's decided that four years of college ought to be the way. The credentials definitely are a plus, maybe he truly could be a world renowned writer is an achievable goal, the losers often told him so.

What Bill doesn't like in his college years, final exam season. He can't help but make post after post updating his progress on his final assignments for the final year, trying to make benchmarks for himself so he can tell himself he's making progress.

He writes two thousand more words, logging on to Facebook again on his laptop, having already not allowed himself his phone so he could have a fighting chance at focus without the Adderall he'd taken to buying from a classmate through the year, though he found that mountain dew helps him about the same.

He takes another swig off his mountain dew red that he's had sat next to his laptop on his desk for the past thirty minutes, only another to follow the many that he'd already knocked back to hold his focus and hopefully even keep him hydrated through this journey. As far as he can tell he hasn't drank water any time in the past seven months, he tried to keep healthy in the beginning before he lost himself in the usual college student self hatred.

He logs into his account, sighing as he sees all his friends' parents showing up all through his feed, all talking about how proud they are of the ones who are in college, Bev finally finishing through beauty school, Eddie working for his engineering degree (not approved by his mother- but the Toziers and Uris' applaud him nonetheless).

He goes to create a status, _"I swear I'm going to die writing this, how's your days going?"_ He types out with caffeine induced shaking fingers. He clicks enter more aggressively than he means to, used to the intense typing that come with his assignments. He's thankful for the fact that he doesn't have a roommate for he'd keep him awake all night long with his powerful typing and intermittent groans of frustration.

He gets a few likes, mostly his friends and peers agreeing, it's truly crunch time in all ways of work now, summer nearing. God, he can't wait for summer, a camping trip with his friends, spin the bottle and jumping into the lake in their underwear, just as they always do.

He goes back at his furious typing, his eyes watering slightly from the brightness of the screen that he's been staring at for who knows how long. He doesn't know how long it's been when he hears a knock on the door that makes him jump, the caffeine making him even more anxious and squirrelly.

He slides out of his chair, nearly everything cracking, especially his neck and back which makes him let out a low groan. He shuffles to the door, squinting his eyes in preparation in case the hall light is on. 

He opens the door, squeezing his eyes shut at the light he doesn't expect. He feels himself pushed back into the dorm room and nearly has a panic attack before he opens his eyes to unveil no other than his best friend, Richie.

"Sweet baby Jesus, Denbrough, you look even worse than I expected," Richie chuckles with worry lacing his tone despite himself, flipping the light switch up to mask the dark room into the artificial yellow light so he can get a better look.

Bill hisses through his teeth when the lights flick on, making his throw his hands up to his face, clearly upset. "Ah c'mon you little vampire, you're taking a break, I was gonna take you out but I don't think you're even up for that," Richie says, trying to sound like he's joking but actually concerned.

He puts his hands on Bill's shoulders, "c'mon, I need to see your face," he says, his tone one that would remind most people of a mother telling their kids just to hurry up and get in the car. 

Bill uncovers his face, still squinting until his eyes adjust to the light, his blue eyes glowing with some relief but an artificial touch of anger added into his expression. He gestures lazily at his computer desk, "Gotta- assignment, yeah," he mumbles, having holed himself up like a hermit for the past weeks.

Richie immediately shakes his head, putting his hands on his hips in a way Bill thinks Eddie has a couple times in another effort to get his way. Bill blinks at him in frustration, his expression almost immediately going to a pout.

"Nope, you're taking a break, I'm afraid, my deal Billiam," Richie says, teasing him with a sing songy lovey voice, rubbing his hands over Bill's shoulders again before dropping his hands to his sides.

Bill makes a whimpering sound in the back of his throat, looking ready to stamp his feet on the floor and properly throw a tantrum like a toddler as he's obviously not at his best.

"Nope, not convincing me otherwise, you need a glass of water and a nap- and maybe a shower, greaseball. And that's coming from me," Richie says, already going to Bill's linen cabinet to throw a towel in his direction.

He starts ushering Bill to the bathroom, "A nice warm shower, alright?" He asks, spinning Bill around suddenly to meet his eyes.

"Mkay," Bill says with a soft yawn, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyelids in an attempt of making himself look more alive, not knowing himself how he looks but Richie's reaction was enough.

"Dude? When was the last time you ate something or slept?" Richie asks, almost as an afterthought, frowning a bit as he keeps his face in line with Bill's.

Bill looks up for a moment, chewing his already chapped lower lip. "What time is it now?" He asks, looking confused as soon as he realizes that he has no clue. 

"That's it, shower, go," Richie says with a sigh, spinning Bill around to shove him at the bathroom, Bill being too tired to protest it.

Richie goes about looking around to remember where Bill's dresser is, pulling the top drawer open to grab him a fresh hoodie and some fuzzy pajama pants that should be comfortable, putting them on the desk with a post it note before heading out hopefully quick enough to get back for when Bill's dressed.

Bill steps out of the shower shivering at the air that strongly differentiates the steam from the shower. He looks himself in the mirror for the first time now, sighing when he actually sees himself. He looks too thin and spindly for his own liking, seeing exactly how obvious that it is that he's not taking care of himself.

He steps out of the bathroom wrapped in his towel, seeking the clothes folded on his desk, reading the little yellow note left atop them, 'went to go get some food- be back soon -Richie', it reads, bringing a small smile to Bill's face as he pulls on the pajamas, feeling the warmth re-engulf him.

He sits in his desk chair, the exhaustion taking over again but since Richie is gone for a bit he feels as though he should try and cram in another couple words to his project, feeling like the longer it is the better the professor will take it.

Richie comes back to him hunched over his laptop again, his eyes bright with some sort of inspiration, so Richie waits a few moments before he actually says anything. "Bill. I thought I said break," he sighs out, sounding genuinely sad. He just wants to be good for him.

"It's four a.m. and you're going to drink the ice water I ordered you, eat the Panera sandwich, and go to bed," Richie says sternly, helping Bill up from his chair to bring him over to the bed, "It's got meat and vegetables and I feel like you eat neither of those," Richie says as he pulls Bill's meal out of the bag, shoving the to go cup full of water to him.

"Thank you," Bill says softly, chewing on the straw as he drinks the water, feeling a little bad that Richie is spending so much effort on making him take care of himself, it makes him feel guilty for worrying him and he'll definitely have to find a way to pay him back after this.

"It's no problem, I just don't want a repeat of freshman year, you came on the camping trip but you were miserable. You can't just work yourself ill like that, you just laid in the camper the whole time, and I don't think that was fun for any of us, except the time I came in and spooned you. I came and I ran my hands through your hair," Richie says, going in to pet Bill's hair, "You're a little warm, not like then though," Richie says, sighing at the memory, "At least Stan is like a walking urgent care," Richie chuckles, putting his arm around Bill's waist now.

Bill eats at his sandwich, leaning into Richie's touch sleepily, his eyes half closed in his comfort, he feels okay being vulnerable with Richie. "That wasn't fun," he agrees with a nod, his mouth full as he speaks, multitasking as he'd call it.

Richie nods, nudging the water closer to Bill again, making him take another sip. "I think it's time for you to go to bed," he says affectionately, running his fingers through his hair with a soft smile, taking the packaging from the food to toss across the room, "I made the shot," he grins as he pulls the blanket up over Bill. He gets up to go turn the lights off, earning a whine from his sleep deprived friend.

He climbs under the covers with him, "Better?" He asks. Bill responds by laying his head on Richie's chest and wrapping arms around him, nestling his face into the crook of Richie's neck right where his neck begins and his shoulders end. Comfort.

Bill comes back to in present time, feeling his eyes prick with tears at the memory, wiping at his eyes carefully. If only he hadn't shut Richie out this time, they could be like that again.


	7. A Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Bev come to help Bill and Richie out of their funks.

Ben knows something is wrong when his own dms and tweets are rolling in all mentioning his friends and possibly not in the most positive light. Some are positive but many are upset with all the confusion. 

He texts Bill worriedly, Richie too but less so, Richie had always been out online. He gets worried when it takes Bill more than two hours to respond, and then four, and then six and then he just doesn't respond for days, and he knows something is up and he needs to help. 

He pulls on his boots and his t-shirt, doing up the buckle on his pants, he's lost weight so he needs to buy some new pants soon, just hasn't gotten around to it, and his clothes now he already knows are comfy.

He calls to Beverly in the kitchen, "Hey," he says, choosing to walk to her Instead, "I'm going to Richie and Bill's, I'm worried," he says, a little out of breath from saying it so quickly. 

She turns around from her cereal in her red mug, looking a bit caught off guard. "I can go too, if you want," she says, milk dripping down her chin slightly from talking with food in her mouth.

Ben nods, "I'm leaving now I think, unless you're not ready that is," he tells her with a slight nod, his anxious energy starting up in himself for his friend, he's really worried. 

Bev had already been planning to go to Richie's, knowing he blames himself for the situation based on his loose efforts to keep using social media as normal, but the tone behind the tweets just isn't his and he seems to need some common sense knocked into him. She puts her mug in the sink, the spoon clinking as the cup hits the bottom.

She nods, "I'm ready, just let me grab my shoes," she says, smiling slightly at him, trying to work through her worry and ignore it as much as she can.

Ben nods back, leaning against the side of the door frame of the kitchen, fidgeting with the bottom hem of his shirt, donning the image of Harry Potter on his chest.

Bev comes back from their room as quickly as she'd disappeared into it, her sandals on her feet, covering the tan lines she gets from wearing them, still not faded from the recently ended summer.

She smiles to him, walking right up and taking his hand confidently, "I can drive if you'd like," she tells him, seeing his shaking hands and wanting to make it easier on him, he seems to think the worst although they would have been told if something like that had happened. 

Ben nods, "Yes, please," he says breathlessly, when he's anxious he always seems to be out of breath, like the pressure of the situation always weighs down right atop his lungs.

Bev leads him out the door, opting to lock the door for them, her hands still as steady as a surgeon's hands, thankfully, a skill from her years of sewing. Her viewers comment on it constantly when she does the occasional nail painting video or get ready with me where she does her makeup on camera.

They go all the way to the apartment complex garage, swinging their arms between them as they make their way to Ben's silver car, still seeming shiny and new, he'd gotten it last winter and during the warmer months he walks everywhere, the sun feels good against his skin, and Beverly's compliments on the freckles he gains would make it worth it even if he hated every other part of it.

Bev shoves the key into the ignition until the engine roars showing its preparation for driving, pulling smoothly out of their parking spot. She drives right out into the dim sunlight, not as bad as it could be for an autumn day. 

Ben looks over at Beverly, "Why do you think Bill isn't responding to my messages?" He asks softly, scared he could have misspoken to put his friend off of him by mistake.

"He probably has his phone off, baby, considering all that's going down surrounding him," she says with a shrug. She personally hasn't even gotten to process the fact that Bill and Richie are together, or even that Bill likes guys at all. She's been too busy trying to do damage control on the image that's made it's rounds around the entirety of Twitter, it can't be taken back now.

Ben nods back in response to that, hoping it'll sink in and make him less fearful that he's done something wrong, thinking about it right up until they pull into the driveway of the flat Bill and Richie live in. 

They get out of the car, but before they do, Bev gives Ben's hand a reassuring squeeze over the glovebox, opening her door and slipping out, careful not to hit her head on the top as she has before.

Ben gets out too, taking a deep breath as he walks over to the driver's side to meet up with Bev so they could hold hands up to Bill and Richie's place before parting ways to talk to their friends.

Bev takes the initiative to knock, eventually knowing neither of them are coming to the door so she bends down to the welcome mat, getting the spare out from under, all the losers know where it is, Richie told them as soon as he and Bill moved.

She puts her pointer finger to her lips to tell Ben that they should stay quiet, not wanting to overwhelm their boys, seeing as it's been a tough few days for them and they seem to have kept pretty quiet. She adjusts her purse strap on her shoulder and then finally opens the door with a soft creak.

They immediately see Richie's head turn from the couch, looking bewildered and confused, "What are you guys doing here? Fuck! Did we have a collab planned? Fuck, I'm sorry," he says with a groan, throwing himself backwards onto the couch to lay there and sigh deeply.

Bev softens when she sees it, walking up to him, leaning over the back of the couch to look down on him, "No, we were worried about you," she says softly, poking the tip of his nose affectionately to show further that she's not upset with him.

"I'm uh- gonna go check on Bill," Ben says quietly to Bev, pointing in the direction of Bill's bedroom as he walks there as silently as he can, knocking on the door before he opens it and steps in, "Billy?" He asks, seeing him laying on the bed face down, probably passed out asleep.

Bill doesn't stir, his bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table, he only uses them when he's really desperate to get rest. Ben sighs, feeling bad for waking him. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, shaking Bill slightly, who jumps when he realizes Ben is next to him, he probably hadn't even gotten himself to sleep after all, just lying quietly, likely thinking much too much for his own good.

"Sorry," Ben says softly, grimacing a little when he sees how worn out Bill looks, seeming completely dehydrated and exhausted. "I'll be back," Ben says despite the fact that he'd only just now arrived. He speeds off to the kitchen and grabs a Gatorade from the fridge, knowing the blue kind is Bill's favorite.

He gets back to the bed, sitting down gently before starting to coax Bill up, handing him the Gatorade already opened, "You're dehydrated as hell, my dude," he says softly, keeping his tone light and airy.

"Everyone knows," Bill mumbles, taking the cap from Ben to screw back onto the bottle. He leans his chin on his hands, chewing his lip. He realizes that he mostly feels awkward because he hadn't even come out to Ben when the post went up, it would have come as a surprise to everyone.

"But is that inherently bad? You can be yourself now," Ben expresses, packing as much positive energy into the statement as he can, just wanting to make Bill feel better at all costs.

"But it's drama now," Bill mumbles, letting his eyes meet Ben's, looking worried, not only about his reputation but himself as a person. He feels like a liar.

"Think about it, you and Richie can make a video, explain it all, then maybe you guys can even be all- lovey on camera and in public," Ben says, remembering the days when nobody knew about he and Bev, though they had the privilege of telling their audiences on their own time.

Bill slowly nods. "I'll have to talk to Richie," he says softly, pulling his knees to his chest to signal that he feels about done talking about it, needing a while alone to let it process completely.


	8. Coming Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romantic and borderline sexual shower scene.

A few days later, Bill finally hauls his ass out of his bed. He takes one full whiff of himself and decides to jump in the shower, but that means leaving his room. He sighs, not sure if Richie's out in the living room or not, and he's not sure if he's just ready to talk.

He pulls his pajama pants up a bit out of habit before opening his door. He peers around the corner, holding his breath slightly when he sees Richie in the living room. He steps out of his room and across the hall to the linen closet to get himself a towel and hopefully a rag to wash his face with as well, feeling as greasy as he'd always been in highschool before he started his skincare routine (that he hasn't been keeping up with).

He closes the linen closet door just a little too hard, making even himself jump as the wood leaves his hand. He's not surprised he's so easily able to startle himself, he's been hiding for days. Even worse to him, Richie looks over with a relieved sigh.

"Oh gosh, Bill," Richie says softly, probably one of the only people in Bill's life who could realize how awful he feels inside just by looking. Richie gets up, not caring about how clean or not clean Bill is as he wraps his arms around him tightly. "You don't need to say anything, I'm so sorry that happened," Richie mumbles against Bill's neck.

Bill nods, feeling tears prick at his eyes for the first time since the picture came out. Though this time it isn't negative, it feels like a release. He finally returns the hug, wrapping his own arms around Richie's body.

"Wanna join me in the shower? We have a lot to talk about," he asks as he pulls away, rubbing his hands at his eyes in hopes that the wetness will go away without the help of anything except the skin on his hands.

Richie nods silently in response, pushing Bill's fringe off his face, "I've missed you, please don't lock me out again?" He asks, hoping the voice crack isn't too noticeable.

Bill nods, swallowing slowly in effort not to cry again. He hugs his towel to his side, taking Richie's clammy hand, not even caring how it feels in his, it still feels right.

They both walk into the bathroom, flipping on the light switch as soon as they waddle in. Bill turns the shower up to be as hot as he can get it, needing to feel clean for the first time in a week. 

He holds onto Richie's long sleeves, looking him in the eye, "I'm really sorry it's been so awful," Bill says, taking his chance to apologize. As the two of them undress for the shower.

"It's not your fault, at all," Richie says, moving his arm to run his hand through Bill's hair again, "I can wash your hair for you and then we can fill an explanation, if you'd like," Richie suggests softly. 

For the first time in the past week, Bill doesn't feel so intimidated about facing the situation. He nods slightly to Richie, putting his face back against Richie's neck as he pulls down his pants and his boxers for the shower.

They both strip down to their birthday suits, still looking at each other lovingly, not even looking down. The moment isn't one of sexual nature but one of comfort and emotional intimacy. 

They both slip into the shower, closing the curtain behind them, hip to hip and chest to chest. Skin against skin making them feel safe in each other's embrace. Bill looks Richie in the eye again, "What should we say in the video?" He asks with wide eyes. 

Richie considers the question for a moment, "What if we made it like a vine, I just kiss you on the lips again and we say surprise in unison," Richie suggests, partially teasing but mostly truthful, it sounds like something they'd do. 

"Oh?" Bill says, looking dreamily into Richie's brown eyes. Richie nods, going in to peck Bill's lips with a gentle nibble, "Surprise," he purrs, going to kiss Bill's cheek next.

Bill giggles slightly, pushing Richie and himself up against the shower wall to kiss him, pulling Richie's lower lip into his mouth, his hands finding their way to Richie's sides, getting more passionate and comfortable with the closeness. There's nothing to hide now. 

_Does this make us? A thing?_ Richie thinks to himself, electing to ask about it afterwards, wanting just to melt into Bill's firm grip for now, wrapping his arms around Bill's waist so the two meet on Bill's lower back, one crawling it's way down to hold Bill close by grabbing his ass.

Bill pushes more, taking Richie's arms and pinning them against the shower wall, the water dripping from their hair downwards, filling the both of them with heat. Bill chews Richie's lower lip a little more, just a bit harder than before, earning an obvious attempt at suppressing a moan on Richie's part.

Bill grins through the kiss, letting Richie take his lip into his mouth this time, he secretly hopes that the two of them will both come out of the shower to be stuck with bruised lips to film the video with.

That is, until Richie starts moving down to Bill's jaw, very obviously working to make a mark, likely one of the sort that turns deep purple and takes over two weeks to heal. Bill's favorite kind, and a new goal arises, to be covered in the evidence. They've already been outed. May as well.

Bill's small sounds encourage Richie down his neck further, leaving Bill shaking and sighing with relief once they separate, stumbling back into the other wall of the shower. Richie regards this with a small smile, pushing Bill's now wet fringe out of his eyes again, "Want me to wash your hair?" He asks, looking Bill's blue eyes straight on.

Bill just nods breathlessly, looking a bit silly as he pants through his mouth, suddenly going from a hermit in his room to this. It's a nice change. He feels ready, more than he thought he'd ever feel to come out.


	9. Prank Gone Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Bill film a prank video. Richie has ulterior motives- they don't go as planned.

Nine months have passed since the boys have officially gotten together and opened up online. They got a massive amount of love for finally making it official on the internet, for their bravery and how happy they seem now that they're open. 

They've done a boyfriend tag and they've started being lovey and kissy in vlogs as well as more in real life, Everything feels like it's fallen into place and they haven't been so happy in their adult life until now.

Now, they sit at Bill's desk planning out their next video together, Richie keeping his smirk to himself with his plan. It's a prank video and it's Bill's turn to be pranked. Of course they know it's a bit odd to script it and it would make people upset, but they've been busy and it seems like the best option to make it actually funny for the viewers.

"What can you tolerate me doing to you?" Richie asks with a smirk, a sexual tone hiding under his regular one, though he giggles once the words come out. He stands behind Bill at his computer, searching through websites to give them ideas.

Bill smiles, blushing slightly at the joke. "Anything really, I'm pretty resilient," he says, his tone only slightly more smooth than Richie's original one. 

Richie squeezes Bill's shoulder teasingly. He looks over Bill's shoulder, squinting his eyes to read it better. He sees something he seems to like a lot and it seems easy enough, smiling to himself and waiting a few moments so Bill wouldn't know what he'd chosen yet.

"I know what I'm doing," he says quickly after Bill passes through another list of ideas. He smiles and kisses the top of Bill's head, "Three o'clock tomorrow," he says in a singsong voice, backing out of the room.

"It better not be some bullshit!" Bill calls after him, spinning around his chair to make sure that Richie can hear him even as he closes the door after himself. He smiles to himself, covering his face to hide his smile from even just himself, he could never have even imagine how much he loves his boyfriend.

The end half of the day comes and goes, the tension of excitement building within Bill, preparing himself for what Richie was to surprise him with in the matter of a day. 

The time comes, he's coming home from the grocery store when he unlocks the door. He peers in, setting the groceries down besides him, looking forward to the rows upon rows of cups of water, all with food coloring dropped into them to make the rainbow hue.

Richie stands in the doorway of Bill's bedroom door with the camera atop his shoulder, "Heyyy Billy, good to be home?" He teases, dancing around in his place in anticipation of making Bill play the rest of this out.

Bill sighs, scanning his eyes all over the room, every inch that could be useful to him all covered in cups filled with water. "You've been dehydrated lately, Billiam, I think it's time you drink some," he says with a devilish grin.

Bill sighs deeply, looking up at Richie again, "You're such an asshole," he says with a loving smile, shaking his head slowly at him. He rolls his neck and his shoulders, picking up the first cup, red food coloring giving the water a pink twinge, downing it immediately. "Bottoms up," he says to the camera with a wink.

Richie looks a bit surprised, sitting down on the floor cross legged, the camera resting on his knee but he tilts it up to he gets footage of Bill drinking the cups. After about thirty of them Bill takes a break, panting slightly from the time of rushing liquid down his throat.

Bill looks straight at the camera and sticks his tongue out, turning colorful from the rainbow glasses, "How the hell do I drink this much, Richie, I'll explode!" Bill exclaims, making a face jokingly at his boyfriend.

"I dunno, lover boy, that's for you to figure out," Richie coos jokingly, his chin resting in his hand as he makes heart eyes at Bill, who's already drinking down another cup.

"For the record, I hate you and I already have to pee," Bill says, ppintit at Richie, making sure the camera can see that. He drinks another yellow one, "I swear you could have peed in some of these and I'd never know," he says, adding the empty cup to the stack.

"Hm, wonder if we're into pissplay, Denbrough, maybe this is steering us in the right direction," Richie teases, cackling to himself just a bit too loudly but it still brings a smile to Bill's face, the awkward boy he knows and loves just being himself.

"Ew, you're nasty," Bill responds, scrunching up his face and starting on the next row of water he has to drink, purposefully acting entirely too miserable for the camera to make the viewers laugh.

"Ah, it's my job, Little Willy," Richie sighs. During editing he plans to put in a "stupid nickname counter" and this would probably be around number five already.

"Ew, don't call me that, Richard," Bill says, sticking his now brownish purple tongue out as he anticipates Richie's offended reaction, he doesn't often like his full name, except in bed, but Bill wouldn't bring that up in (this) video.

They speed quietly through a few more rows of water until Bill nears the end, Richie smiling happily to himself about the end of this video. He's really been planning this for who knows how long, but didn't even bring up the video to Bill for quite a while.

"You ready to be done, Billy Boy?" Ping, number ten on the silly nickname counter, which means he can't do any more, it's a rule he promised to his followers, it's amusing to see him struggle not to past ten.

"Yes, I'm gonna die, you're gonna have to lay with me because I need a nap, you can put the groceries away yourself," Bill says, sticking his tongue out, mostly joking, mostly.

Richie chuckles, "Planned on it," he smiles, looking more blissful than he should, so he tones it down a bit, wanting to keep the surprise properly a surprise.

Bill goes about drinking the next few cups, one of them has a hard time going down, which he attributes to the fact that he just can't drink any more. He makes a face as he swallows harder until it goes down, Richie watching in awe.

"What the fuck?" Richie says, his eyes wide. "Was there something wrong with that water?" He asks, fearing the answer just slightly.

"It was kinda hard to swallow, I'm close enough to my room, can I please just give up now?" Bill whines, pouting over at Richie. 

"Uhhh, no I think we have to go somewhere," he says, tip toeing carefully over the remaining cups, "I'm driving," he says, putting a hand on Bill's back for a moment before going to pull the groceries in the house so they at least wouldn't be right outside the door when that left. 

"Where are we going?" Bill asks, following after Richie slowly, looking exhausted and tired of Richie's bs by this point.

Richie looks over at him sheepishly. "Urgent Care? You kinda uh- swallowed an engagement ring," he says softly, fidgeting without even looking down at his hands.

"Wait- fuck," Bill says, putting his hands on his face, "I'm sorry, Rich, I should have been more careful," he sighs, looking over at his boyfriend apologetically, which makes Richie fear that he'd made an attempt at proposing too soon. "You didn't have to be all special, I would have said yes even if we had been watching a movie with our hands down each other's boxers," Bill whispers in Richie's ear as he agrees to leave to see what they could do about the ring.

"Think about the views opportunities, Billiam!" Richie exclaims as he leaves the apartment, camera off by now. "Prank gone wrong- ends in hospital visit. And then, Storytime- the time Bill swallowed his engagement ring. By the way it was a ring from an egg toy machine," Richie rambles. They may not be completely conventional. But they like it that way.


End file.
